Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, quotes or anything copyrighted in this fanfiction, which should be apparent because it's on fanfiction and not on your shelf, what I do own is the plot and any extra characters that I may have added, that's saying, if I have added any characters. *wink wink* The only thing left that I also don't own is this disclaimer which my friend wrote (If I Could I Wouldn't, if you want to know)

Summary: Ever since Clary's Dad died she had sworn that she would never speak again, but when Jace, her brothers best friend convinces her to talk she became a better version of herself. That is, until her Mother remarries to Valentine, once again she hides bruises and scars from her friend's and 'family' all of whom have abandoned her apart from the one that was there in the first place.

This is my first fanfiction so go easy on me please. My friend also did the editing so if anything's wrong blame her, although all she did was glance at it and say it was cool so I can't exactly rely on her…

Anyway, read on… or don't but I wouldn't know why you clicked on this if you didn't want to read it… just saying.

Clary PoV

Clary's first memory of her and her brother, Jonathan, was when she was four and was learning how to ride a bike without training wheels. She was riding and by riding I mean she was sitting on the bike with her legs on the ground on either side and was sort of wobbling along with the bike in between her legs up and down the path next to the back door. Jonathan was playing football with his best friend Jace who lived a few houses down the road, Jace was two years younger than Jonathan and one year older than Clary.

'Why can't your wimpy sister ride a bike yet?' Jace called to Jonathan.

Clary was too busy focusing on her bike and not falling to pay any attention to what the two boys were saying.

'Don't be mean, Jace. She's only four.'

'Well when I was four I was doing wheelies and back flips on my bike!' Jace was always over-exaggerating everything and showing off.

'As if!' Jonathan shouted back to Jace. He kicked the ball hard aiming for the goal but missed my a few feet and hit Clary square in the head making her topple over the bars of her bike. Clary screamed and wailed when she hit the floor and Jonathan came running over to her forgetting about his and Jace's game.

'Clary! Clary, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!' Jonathan was crouching next to Clary who was clutching a bleeding knee. Jonathan looked at her knee and gasped, she had cut it so deep he was surprised he couldn't see the bone. 'It's OK, Clary, don't worry.' Jonathan helped a bawling Clary up and helped her to the kitchen where they kept the first aid kit; he placed her gently on a chair and climbed up onto the cabinet to get a big plaster and an antiseptic wipe. He cleaned Clary's cut and put a plaster on it before kissing it better.

Jocelyn, Clary and Jonathans mum, came running into the kitchen, 'what's wrong?!' She squeaked, 'I heard Clary crying,' Jocelyn wiped her paint covered hands on her painting clothes; she loved painting and had her own room full of easels and paintings. Luke was heard crashing down the stairs from his study and came to a holt next to his wife. He took one look at Clary and his face sunk, he was very protective over his children and hated anything bad happening to them, 'Baby, are you OK?' He asked getting to his knees in front of Clary cupping her cheeks in between his big hands.

'I'm OK,' Clary said sniffing back tears, 'Jonathan got me a plaster and kissed it better.' She smiled at her big brother.

'Really, Jonathan? That was very grown up, well done.' Luke said turning his attention to his son, he put both hands on Jonathan's shoulders, 'Good job, mate.' He ruffled the boy's hair, kissed Clary and headed back to his study. Jocelyn hugged Clary and Jonathan together then headed back to her painting.

Jonathan hugged Clary one last time before heading back out to Jace who was lying in the middle of the grass with the ball on his stomach.

.o.O.o.

Clary was sitting in the chair next to Luke's bed. Her dad was sleeping, he looked so peaceful, like nothing was wrong with him, but Clary knew. Luke was diagnosed with Leukaemia a year ago when he went to hospital about a pain in his chest and a major nose bleed. Clary was six when that happened and she hadn't really understood what was going on when her mum came away from the doctor crying, she had whispered something to Jonathan but when Clary asked her mother just began to cry with more force and Jonathan wouldn't look at her. At first she thought it was her fault and began crying but seven weeks later her mum told her the real reason.

Luke stirred next to her and muttered something under his breath. Clary held her dads hand, 'Daddy?' she whispered, 'Are you OK?' Luke opened his eyes and smiled when he saw Clary, 'Hey there, Clare-Bear.' He winked at her and squeezed her hand.

'Are you feeling OK?' Clary asked, squeezing his hand back smiling.

'Perfect,' He said, 'Clary, could you go and get mummy for me?'

'Sure.' She planted a kiss on his head and went to find her mum. 'Mum?' Clary shouted down the stairs, 'MUM!' Jocelyn came running out of her painting room, paintbrush in hand, panting heavily, 'What is it! Is it daddy?' She looked scared.

'No,' Clary said walking down the stairs to hug her mum, 'He's just asking for you.'

Jocelyn looked relived and kissed Clary's head, 'OK, sweetheart, thank you. Do you want to go and help Jon with lunch?'

'OK.' Clary hugged her mum before she ran to the kitchen. Jonathan was looking in the fridge, undoubtly for a filling for the sandwiches. 'Hey Jon.' Clary said walking over and resting her elbows on his back.

'Hey Clary, what do you want on your sandwich?' Clary opened her mouth to answer then Jonathan quickly said, 'And not something silly like Chocolate or sweets. Just because your six doesn't mean you need sugar all the time, in fact you probably need less.' Clary always thought that since her dad got cancer he always seemed to grown up for his age, ten year olds were meant to play in the mud when it's raining or come home from football practice covered in dirt with his friends, that what's Jace did anyway, not be making lunch and telling his little sister what she can eat.

'Fine.' Clary sighed, 'What have we got?'

'Cheese, ham, chicken, jam…'

'Banana!' Clary shouted. Jon stood up from the fridge and looked at Clary.

'Banana?' He asked and Clary nodded, 'I think I hit you with that ball a bit too hard on the head a while ago. It's messed up you're sense of taste.' Clary giggled and jumped at her brother who fell down with Clary on top of him. Jonathan hugged Clary and got up to make her sandwich. He put banana on Clary's, chicken on his mums and got some soup out of the microwave for his dad. 'So, did daddy say anything to you before?' Jonathan asked looking at the butter.

'He said he felt fine and he called me Clare-Bear and he winked at me and he squeezed my hand.' Clary told her brother everything that had happened so he knew exactly everything.

'Well that's good.' He said and put Clary's sandwich on the table with a packet of crisps. Clary sat down and started on her sandwich, taking it apart and liking the banana off. Jonathan went out of the kitchen to give his mum and dad their lunch. Clary had almost finished everything by the time Jon got back, she put her plate in the sink as her brother reached into the cupboard and pulled out the biscuit tin.

'Jon!' Clary whisper yelled, her brother never broke the rules, especially when it came to biscuits. He grinned and pulled out three cookies and gave them to Clary, 'Don't tell mum.' He whispered taking three for himself. They both headed outside to their treehouse to eat without being caught.

Luke had built the treehouse when Jonathan was four and Clary was only a tiny baby in a cot, saying that every boy needed his own treehouse. Inside it was covered in pictures Clary and Jon had drawn and a photo of Luke and Jocelyn standing next to their house, with Jon on Luke's shoulders and Clary holding her mum's hand. Clary had her mums fiery red, curly hair and green eyes whereas Jon had their dad's dark brown hair and grey eyes. There were three plastic chairs around a wooden table that Luke's friend Alaric had built. Clary sat in her pink one and Jon in his blue one, there was a spare green one in case Jace came round or Clary's friend Simon decided to visit.

Clary and Jonathan sat up in their treehouse where everything was fine and Luke didn't have cancer, where they could escape it all even if it was just for an hour and live in their own happy bubble.

I don't know what to put here, I just decided to put something here to create the illusion there were more words then there actually was. Yeah, I'm aiming to become a magician.